Tis A Shame
by Dimples
Summary: Cole was killed by a bountyhunter just weeks after his powers were bound by the Charmed Ones. Phoebe has to try and hold it together, but what does she have to hold onto? part 3/3*new chapter up now* set before charmed and dangerous
1. 1

The casket was lowered slowly into the ground, causing Phoebe to want to jump in after it. How long had it been since she had seen his face? Days? Hours? It didn't matter. He was gone and that was all that needed to be said.

            Piper stuck close by her side, clinging to her arm as though she were the one who needed holding up, and not her sister. She leaned her head onto Phoebe's shoulder, whispering in her ear. "You're gonna be okay, I promise. We'll help you get through this. All of us will be there for you."

            Phoebe shrugged her sister away. How could she get through this? The love of her life was gone, killed by a bounty hunter even after he had been stripped of his powers. She remembered his face as he attempted vainly to throw an energy ball at the grinning demon, but the flames consumed his before he had even a chance to run. She remembered the last thing he said, how he had choked out his last breath in her arms. 

            _"I only wanted to marry you. That's all I ever wanted…"_

            She had cried for hours, holding his body in her arms. No one had dared go near her, for fear of being screamed at. Both her sisters had left her alone, watching silently from the battered living room. The overturned couch was in ruins, springs poking out at all angles, and the grandfather clock in the corner lay shattered once again, but nothing felt more broken than their hearts. Each sister grieved for the fallen man, whose lips had long since turned blue, and his skin gone cold. It hurt to watch Phoebe rock him, knowing that there was nothing that any of them could do to ease her suffering. Piper buried her face in Leo's chest, and he squeezed his eyes shut, cursing himself for not being there in time to save his friend.

            The middle sister sat rigidly on the metal folding chair that was set up next to the giant hole in the earth. The rain spattered her shoulders, soaking her hair and ruining her silk gown, but still she remained motionless, too numb to care.

            _He only wanted to marry me. That's all he ever wanted… she ran the words over in her mind, slipping them over her tongue like melting butter. The pain was too much for her to abide, and she let her back go limp as she slid onto the muddy ground next to the hole. She glanced at the mahogany coffin and wept, throwing her single white rose at her lover's deathbed. She got up and ran, tripping over her high-heeled shoes on the damp ground. The mausoleum wasn't far away, just down the cemetery road and around the corner. She forced the door open and stumbled into the warmth of Cole's secret hideaway. She remembered the time she had spent with him there, the fighting, the kissing, the lovemaking. It had all happened in the mausoleum, everything that they had ever wanted in each other. It was their second home, their safehaven. And yet that day it felt exactly like what it was: a tomb. A choking, empty, place of cessation for lost souls. Cole's soul. Would his soul be lost, or could it come rest in her heart, where he stayed for nearly two years? She pressed her back against the cold stone wall and slid helplessly to the floor. She wasn't ready to let him go, but there was no way to hold onto him._

            "Phoebe, honey? Are you here?" Piper's voice floated down the stairs, causing Phoebe's sobs to catch in her throat. 

            _Please, don't find me like this, she thought. __I don't want you to see me like this. It's too soon for me to break down. Not now, please. Phoebe could feel her sister linger at the doorway for a few moments, then the air around her relaxed as Piper left, and again she was alone. It hurt to think, it hurt breath, but it hurt more not to. She couldn't just stop thinking. If she did, how could she remember Cole? How could she imagine his face next to hers each morning, his scratchy stubble brushing her cheek as he leaned over to kiss her eyes. How could she imagine his voice, whispering in her ear. __"Morning, sleepy head. I had a dream about you…" She heard it carried on a wind, breezing past her in a smooth wave, just out of reach. Was this all she had to remember him by? Memories of morning conversations that would fade over the years? She had nothing, nothing that would last forever. No pictures, no videos. It was all a memory._

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            Phoebe woke up hours later, her damp dress clinging to her thin form. A cool night breeze drifted down the stairwell, and she shivered against it. She sat up, her shoulders slumped, and wiped the dirt from her arms. She stretched out the crick in her neck and the stiffness in her back before slowly getting to her feet. _It must be getting late, I'd better get back soon. Cole might start to worry… her thoughts trailed off and she lowered her eyelids. __Cole won't worry. He can't. He's dead. Another wave of self-pity swept over her and she buried her face in her hands. Groping along the wall, she pulled herself out of the tomb, and sloshed through the cemetery to the mound of freshly laid dirt. Most of it had collapsed in the rain, making several large puddles of thick mud around the headstone. _

_Cole Turner_

_Beloved Lover, Brother, and Friend_

_1973-2002_

_He fought Evil with the Goodness in his Heart_

_Blessed Be_

            She collapsed into the headstone, wrapping her arms around it as though it were a long lost teddy bear from a forgotten childhood. Weeping into the cool cement felt strangely unsettling, yet it was the only thing that she felt capable of doing right at the moment. The wind howled around her, whipping her long hair from the tight knot that she had put it in for the funeral. It fell about her shoulders, and she could almost feel Cole reaching from beyond his grave to run his slender fingers through it one last time.

            _Let me go…_

_            The phrase echoed through her mind, as she saw a child gripped a woman's hand. He cried out and pulled away from her, running through a field of thick clover and tall grass. The woman followed, but only for a few steps before turning. Just as Phoebe was about to see her face, the vision faded and she was left alone again in the cemetery, surrounded by thousands of stories waiting to be told. _

            Unsure of how to proceed with this new premonition, she pulled herself to her feet and rested her hand gently on the cold stone. A final crept heartlessly down her cheek as she set off to the main road to find a cab and a warm place to have breakfast without being under the watchful eye of her sisters. Once she had made her way into a small diner a few blocks away from the manor, she trudged into the dingy bathroom to wash the dirt from her face. She gazed at herself in the mirror, surprised at how sickly she looked. The dark circles under her eyes contrasted sharply with her pale cheeks, and the red rims around her deep brown eyes made her seem more of a monster than a witch. She splashed a handful of cold water on her face, letting the grime from a night on the floor of a tomb drip down her jaw and into the sink. She wiped her face with a stiff paper towel from the rack and threw it into the trash without looking away from the mirror. She could see something in her own eyes, something like a premonition that was longing to come out but never had the right opportunity. Knowing exactly what the premonition was trying to tell her, she sighed and went back out into the dining area, where she sat down on a stool at the counter near the door. The old woman who ran the kitchen came up to her, a pen and paper in hand.

            "What's yer pleasure, missy?" she asked politely, her Irish drawl coming through, though Phoebe could tell she tried to hide it. 

            "I'll just have a black coffee and some scrambled eggs, if it's not too much trouble," she replied with her nose buried in a worn plastic menu. The woman watched her for a moment before nodding and taking the order back to the kitchen. 

Returning a moment later with the coffee, the gray-haired woman sat down on a chair on the other side of the counter. "What's with the long face? You look like someone just died."

Phoebe laughed half-heartedly into her coffee cup, shaking her head while she tried to keep from trembling. "Yeah, that's about right."

"Oh, bless yer heart, I'm so sorry. I had no idea that ya had lost someone. Jasus, Mary and Joseph, me an' me big mouth sometimes." The woman patted Phoebe's hand softly, handing her a napkin to blow her nose in. She thanked her under her breath and wiped away the tear that trickled down her cheek.

"It's ok, you couldn't've known. I just came in here to avoid my family, you know? They keep asking how I'm holding up, how I'm doing, and I just want to scream at them to leave  me alone. Do you know what I mean?" Phoebe took a sip of the dark liquid in her cup and nearly choked as she had to keep from spitting the fowl substance into the kind woman's face.

"Ay, I do, missy. 'Twas goin' on ten years past that me 'usband Patrick died 'o cancer. A hard battle fought, it were. He was a good man, that one. Always made the best meat pies." She smiled as Phoebe cracked her first genuine grin of the night. "So how long had you two been married?"

"Oh, we weren't married. Just engaged. Cole and I… we had to wait for the right time to get married. The timing was always off." Phoebe rubbed the ring on her finger with tender affection, then took it off for the woman to see more closely. "He gave that to me after my sister gave it to him. It's a family heirloom; my grandmother was married with it six times."

"Six times! Jasus, that's a lot 'o 'usbands! Me an' Patrick were the only ones fer each other. We always said that we'd grow old together and watch the wee 'uns run along in our fields. Never got a chance to have children though, 's too bad. Imagine he woulda been a right fine pater."

Phoebe arched her eyebrows. "Pater?"

"Father, child. Father. The man had a way with the little 'uns, he did." The woman reached behind her as a bell rang sharply, signaling that Phoebe's eggs were ready. She pulled the plate from the man in an apron and handed the fresh eggs to Phoebe. 

She sighed and pushed them around her plate. "Cole would've been a great father. It's just a shame he didn't live long enough to see his children."

"Ay, 'tis a shame to lose someone before y've 'ad the chance to make little someones." 

Phoebe gave up and let her fork fall into the mushy pile of yellow goo. "No, I mean that it's a shame that he'll never have chance to know his child… I'm pregnant."


	2. 2

          A bitter wind that was uncommon for San Francisco whipped past Phoebe's face, sending her hair into a frenzied whirl about her head. She had resigned herself to walking the three miles home from the diner after she had failed at finding a taxi driver who spoke English. Despite the high-heeled shoes that squished when she walked, Phoebe was rather enjoying her stroll through her hometown.

            It had been a while since she had been to visit this side of the city, and as she marveled at the broken buildings on the boulevards, she wondered how everything had fallen apart in four short years. The storefronts, which had formerly been successful businesses, were rundown and decrepit, the paint from their once magnificent awnings peeling and crumbled. She sighed as she passed her favorite boutique, seeing the "for lease" sign in the broken window. _I feel like that shop, she thought to herself. __Broken and for sale, like a used car without an engine. God, if I could only see his face again, I could tell him how much I loved him…I never got to say goodbye. Her thoughts wandered in and out of coherency as she rounded one corner after another, not really paying attention to where she was going. The three miles turned into four, and four into six, until she finally looked up and realized that she was lost._

            "Where…?" she gazed around her, her throat closing up as she saw the neighborhood that surrounded her. The houses were blackened with age, some just from smoke. The windows were either boarded up with thin sheets of plywood, or they were secured tightly with repulsive metal bars. A single light burned in a single home just a block away, like a lighthouse on the rocks amid a stormy sea. Fearing that her presence in such a place might cause an uproar, she hurried past the impaired houses. She clutched her shall to her chest while the wind attempted vainly to rip it from her grasp, howling in anger as she held the thin material tighter in her fists. Just twenty yards from the disheveled split level residence, she gasped as the door flung itself open, the wind smashing it against the cracking siding with enough force to make another large hole in the home. Inside the entrance, a silhouette bathed in a soft glow stepped out onto the cement porch, her hands on her stout hips. 

            "Come on in heuh, chile'!" the plump woman cried, waving her hand to welcome Phoebe into her home. "Git youself out the col' and wind. You gonna catch the chills if you's stays out heuh much longa!"

            Phoebe paused at the front walk, unsure of what do to in this particular situation. Sure, the old woman seemed pleasant and kind enough, but even the most docile of people have their crazy streaks. Despite the nagging feeling that bit at the back of her neck, Phoebe smiled politely at the woman and headed up the path to the porch, where she was greeted warmly with a soft handshake from the woman's callused palms.

            "I've been expectin' you, chile'," she said as she lead Phoebe into the house. "When I saw you's looking lost down on the corner, I jus' knew you'd be coming to see Ol' Hattie Pearson. I said to myself, 'Hattie, that chile's lost, and you's the one who's gonna hep her'." Hattie sat Phoebe down on her moth-eaten old couch and dusted away the grime on the leaning table next to her. "You jus' wait heuh, chile', and I'll go git you's something warm to drink." She waddled slowly from the room, favoring her right hip as she leaned on a gnarled old cane she'd picked up at the door.

            No longer frightened, Phoebe gazed around the room, amazing that a person could live with such sparse furnishings. 

            The couch where she sat was against the far wall, under the window  that she had seen the light from. Next to her on the right was the broken table that held a fractured lamp with no shade and a failing bulb. The fireplace on the other wall looked like it hadn't been used in years, but the mantle above it was immaculately clean, the pictures of the dark skinned children laughing and smiling gleaming in their silver frames. They looked to be the only things in the house that were not falling apart, and she grinned softly to herself as she imagined herself doing the same thing in forty odd years. Dusting only what needed to be dusted: her memories. 

            She quickly swatted away the tear that formed at the corner of her eye as Hattie returned to the room, bearing a tray of steaming mugs of hot liquid on her unstable arms. Phoebe leapt to her feet and took the tray from the elderly woman and placed it gently on the coffee table in front of the couch. She glanced into the ceramic cups, praying that the substance in it would resemble something caffinated. Thankfully, the sweet aroma of an herbal tea wafted up to her nostrils and relaxed her muscles before she had a chance to sip it. 

            "Tha's chamomile tea, chile'. Best at relaxin' nerves, I say." Hattie sat down next to her and placed a caring hand on her bare knee. Her deep brown eyes were soft and warm as she smiled. "Now tell Ol' Hattie how a pretty girl like you ended up down heuh. Certainly couldn't'a walked heuh all by your lonesome in this weather. Where's your husband, chile'?"

            Phoebe drew in a deep breath, her eyes closing involuntarily. "I… I'm not married," she said, picking up the mug and taking a deep gulp to keep her mouth occupied. 

            Hattie screwed up her face, her wrinkles becoming more predominant as her nose twitched to one side. "How can a pretty girl like you not be married? You havin' a chile', chile'!" 

            Phoebe snapped her head up from her tea, her eyes filled with both confusion and anger at the same time. How dare this senile old woman presume to tell her what she should and should not be doing with her life. "Excuse me?" she said, setting the cup back down on the scratched surface of the table so she didn't end up flinging it at the aged woman.

            "I know what you's is thinkin'," Hattie replied, winking. "'How's this crazy ol' woman know that I'm in the family way?' Well, after midwifin' twenty-three babes each year for the past thirty years, you'd know who's havin' what too." 

            By this time, Phoebe was extremely puzzled. "Mrs. Pearson, how did you know I'd be coming here? I mean, you seemed to have every notion that I'd come directly to your house, and no one else's."

            Hattie laughed. "Chile', why ain't you callin' me Hattie? That's my name, ain't it?"

            "Sorry… Hattie, did you know I'd be coming here? Like, before I showed up on the corner?" Phoebe sat on the edge of her chair, hanging onto her sanity by just a thin thread. "Please, I have to know."

            The geriatric smiled and took a sip of her cold tea. "I seen you in a dream, chile'. There you was, runnin' through a field, just a chile' with a chile' and no man to make you laugh and make you cry. Theuh was somethin' in your face that took me by surprise. Even with the beautifu' babe runnin' ahead of you, you looked lonely, sad an' such. I couldn' put my finger on it. But theuh you were, chile', in my dreams. I knew I had to hep you somehow when I recognized you out theuh in the col'."

            Phoebe lowered her head into her hands, crying as she remembered her own premonition in the graveyard. She trembled as chills shot up and down her spine, despite the sudden warmth of the room. "How can you help me, Hattie?" she sobbed. "No one can help me now."

            Hattie moved closer to Phoebe on the couch, wrapping her portly arms around her quivering shoulders. "Anyone can hep anyone when anyone wants hep, chile'. They jus' gots to know wheuh to look. For you, I'm the hep you git… let him go, chile'. Let his soul rest. It's the only way you'll be able to see him again… 'tis a shame, such a pretty girl."

            Phoebe let out a muffled laugh into Hattie's sleeve. "That's the second time I've heard that tonight. Frankly, I agree." She leaned away from the old woman and took a firm grasp of her shoulders before she looked her in the eyes. "Thank you, Hattie Pearson. You don't know how much you've done for me."

            "Oh, you'd be surprised, chile'. You'd be surprised." 

            A honk from outside drew Phoebe's attention out the window. An impatient cab driver peered out at her from the window, glaring around the neighborhood cautiously. Hattie patted her shoulder lightly and kissed her forehead as though she were her own child. "Tha's your ride, chile'. Took the liberty of callin' 'em when you showed up on my doorstep. Don't worry, he speaks English. Might not be the cleanest English, but he speaks it alright. You go on home and deal with your demons. Whoevuh they may be." She winked and showed Phoebe to the door, draping a thick blanket over her arms as she opened the entrance and let a gust of air in. She watched as Phoebe made her way slowly down the drive, turning back to say something. Before she could say what she wanted, Hattie cut her off. "It was nice meetin' you, Phoebe. Hope I'll see you again some day." With that, she closed the door, the lights in the house shutting off a few seconds later. 

            Phoebe sighed and got into the cab, careful not to get the elaborately embroidered quilt caught in the door. Once she sat back and caught her breath, she told the cheerful driver where to go. Once they were far away from the abandoned neighborhood, she began to think about Hattie Pearson and what she had said. Everything she had told her all night had made perfect sense except for one thing: when she left, Hattie had called her 'Phoebe'… Phoebe had never once mentioned her name.


	3. 3

The door creaked slightly as Phoebe pushed it open. All around her, the manor was dark, the lights extinguished in the small hours of the morning. She let the stained glass door shut behind her as she began to creep up the stairs. Something, however, drew her attention away from the bed that was calling her name just a few steps away. She turned back around and hesitated before flicking on the lights in the living room. They illuminated the area, spraying the furniture with a dusting of pale yellow beams. Phoebe shielded her eyes for a moment as they adjusted to the brightness, then lowered her hand to glance about the empty room.

It was as it had always been, the couch and table in the center on a fake Persian rug, the seldom-used fireplace and mantle littered with trinkets vacations and antique shops. The usual pieces of furniture were all in place and were all in tact, despite many of them having had had run-ins with random demons and sisterly rivalry. They were all restored to their former majesty, free from the cracks and dents that had once scarred their figures.

As she looked around one last time before she left for bed, Phoebe paused as she noticed the picture in the oaken frame on the end table. She approached it slowly and lifted it with tender care as she recognized the faces, which she traced with her index finger. 

She and her sisters stood in a row, Piper, then Paige, and finally herself. It had been the first and only picture the new family had taken together, right after Paige had moved into the manor a month earlier. Leo had taken the photograph with one of those disposable cameras, while Cole had watched from behind him. No one had expected the snapshot to come out as nicely as it had, defining each of the women's features with intricate detail. All three of the girls were filthy, tired, and cranky after a long day of hauling luggage and furniture through the house, but somehow they found a second to see the good side of their labor, and smiled widely for the camera. 

Phoebe sighed and let the three happy sisters in the picture become a blur. Instead, she focused on her own reflection in the glass, watching herself as if for the first time. She saw the deep circles under her eyes and the faded river of mascara that had embedded itself on her cheek. She tried to wipe it away, rubbing furiously at her skin until it was red in the glass. She heaved and gave up, but refused to glance away from her reflection in the picture. Looking into her own eyes, she saw something buried deep within her that she couldn't quite put her finger on. It wasn't the child growing inside her, or the feeling of guilt that she had every time she looked in the mirror. No, it was something more, and it irritated her to no end that she had no idea what was going on inside her own head. She stared deeper, only to be rewarded with a headache. She relaxed her eyes again and wheezed lightly.

There was a flash. Not a flash of light, but more a flash of darkness. The lamps in the room flickered for a second, blinking in and out of order as Phoebe saw an image appear next to hers in the glass. Cole smiled at her and winked, his translucent face shining with pride as he faded again. His lips moved without a sound, trying to say something that Phoebe couldn't make out.

"What are you saying?!" she hissed to the picture. "Oh God, just tell me what you're saying!"

The window behind her burst open and she snapped her head up. A strong gust of wind made the pane slam against the wall, the glass cracking as the wind blew in a handful of dry leaves. She looked back at the picture, but Cole's face in the glass was gone. The wind continued to howl both outside and in as Phoebe felt another flood of tears overwhelm her.

"Cole…" she whispered, dropping the frame to the floor. "Please don't leave me…" She fell onto the couch, curling into a tight ball as she closed her eyes to sleep…

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The world around her spun too quickly for Phoebe to make out what she was seeing. It almost looked like the manor, but there was no furniture around. As the spinning slowed, the room around her became clear, and she recognized the foyer of the manor. She was standing in the open doorway, watching as Cole descended the stairs slowly.

"Hey baby," he said. "I've missed you."

Phoebe stuttered from her position, her knuckles turning white as she gripped the doorframe. "Bu…But you… you're d-de…?"

"Dead? Yeah, I know." Cole finally managed to make it down the stairs to her, pulling her gently inside the manor. The cold wind from the street that had been whipping at her back ceased as he shut the door and enveloped her in a warm embrace. "I never meant for this to happen, Phoebe. You know that, right?"

She was trembling in his arms, but managed her quiet reply. "Of course I know."

He nodded and kissed her head. "Then you also know that there's nothing you can do for me. It's over, baby. I've got to move on…and so do you. And I can't do that unless I know that you'll be okay."

Phoebe shook her head vigorously and clenched her fists in his shirt collar. "No, I won't. I can't. Please, it's too soon to let you go. I've only just gotten you back."

Cole lifted her chin with his hand so he could look in to her eyes. "You won't be able to take care of our baby of you don't… Once I had died, the higher powers gave me an option: I could see your future if you did let me go, or the future if you didn't. I wanted to see if you didn't, and I can tell you, it wasn't pretty. You lost the baby after about a month, since you never ate or slept. You were really depressed, moping around the manor and being a general nuisance. Saving innocents didn't matter to you anymore. You even pushed your sisters away. Don't end up like that, Phoebe. I don't want to spend eternity knowing that I ruined your life."

Phoebe's lower lip quivered in his palm as the tears welled up in her eyes again. "You were the only reason that my life wasn't in shambles, Cole. You made me a whole person."

"But then I ripped your heart out," he countered. "On numerous occasions, if I remember correctly. You should hate me."

"How could I hate you for being yourself, or for something that you had no control over? It was beyond our command."

Cole shrugged. "I never got a chance to make things right between us, after me powers were stripped and the proposal… I just thought that you might resent me for leaving you to bear the burden alone."

"A child is hardly a burden, Cole. It's a blessing. Albeit a blessing that requires a lot of work, but a blessing nonetheless. And just the fact that the baby is yours makes it all worth it." Phoebe sighed and wrapped her arms around him. "I don't want to let you go."

Cole exhaled sharply, squeezing her around the waist with loving tenderness. "You're going to have to. Piper's coming…" he trailed off as Phoebe heard a faint voice floating somewhere above her.

"Phoebe…"

"Oh God, not now," Phoebe looked back to Cole, who was no longer in her arms, but seemingly gliding up the stairs. "Cole, wait!"

He turned to he and smiled, his bright blue eyes shining. "I love you, Phoebe, but do me one last favor: let me go. For yourself, and for our baby…"

"Phoebe…"

Phoebe dashed to the stairs, stumbling as the floor opened beneath her feet. 

"You can't follow me, Phoebe. Please, go home. Your sisters need you…"

She felt herself falling through the crack, screaming Cole's name as she heard the last thing he said.

"Just move on…"

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"Cole! Cole, wait!"

Phoebe sat upright on the couch, her already filthy shirt soaked with sweat. Piper was at her side, a glass of water and what looked like Advil in her hand. 

"Shhhh… it's alright, honey. It's okay, it was just a dream." She eased Phoebe into a sitting position, then sat down next her. Piper wrapped a comforting arm around Phoebe's shoulders. Phoebe leaned against her and wept, shaking violently in her sister's arms as she let go of all her resignations. 

"God, how can I live without him, Piper? I loved him so much…" Phoebe whispered, fearing that anything louder might deafen the silences. "And now, with the-" She stopped, suddenly realizing that Piper didn't know about the baby yet. She gulped and tried to forget that she was about to say it out loud. Piper had been wanting a baby for so long, and it seemed only right that she should have one first, but now…

"With the what?" Piper asked gently, her eyes soft with understanding. "With the…the baby?"

Phoebe let her jaw drop slightly, before shaking her head in disbelief. "How did you…?"

"You were talking in your sleep. I heard you come in earlier, but figured that you wanted to be alone. When I heard you talking to someone, I came down to investigate, but you were out cold on the couch. I didn't want to wake you so I just sat and listened. You were dreaming about Cole." Piper stroked her little sister's hair as though she were a child in her arms, crying over a scraped knee. 

Phoebe snuggled into the maternal gesture with ease and remained curled up there while she thought about the dream again. "I was in the manor, with Cole, and he told me I had to move on… if not for myself or the baby, then for you."

"I heard," Piper replied. "All I heard was your half of the conversation, but it was enough to give me an idea… Phoebe, I'm sorry about Cole. I just wish that there was some way to reverse time, to take it all back."

The younger sister nodded and closed her eyes. "There's nothing to take back, Piper. He's gone. I'll see him again someday, just maybe not as soon as I'd like to hope. Until then, I have my baby to think of. My son…" The pieces nearly fit themselves together as Phoebe realized that her premonition and Hattie's dream had been one in the same. The little boy in her premonition had been the son she carried inside of her, and the lonely woman had been Phoebe, alive and well without Cole. She had made it after all. She had survived the loss, grown through it, and had given birth to a beautiful baby boy... or so she thought. What did the future hold for her, other than the perfect child that had shown himself to her? With her eyes still closed, Phoebe squeezed Piper's waist and thought deeply, trying to bring back the premonition that had struck her so profoundly the night before. The image of the field flooded her vision, the small blond boy toddling ahead of her. She finally saw her own face, followed by that of a handsome young man, who came up from behind and swept her off the ground and whisked her through the tall grass. She heard shouts from behind and the man turned for both of them. 

"Mom!" 

A girl, who looked older than the boy, called out to her, and she jumped from the man's arms. She ran to her and hugged her tightly, whispering something into her ear just as Phoebe saw her Piper run past them all to swing the little boy into her arms. The vision faded, and Phoebe was once again in the quiet living room of the manor. She opened her eyes and smiled, remembering the girl's bright blue eyes and thick chestnut hair, and the small blond boy running through the fields.

"Piper?"

The oldest sister yawned and glanced downward. "Hm?"

"Congratulations."

"For what, Phoebes?"

Phoebe grinned, and settled back into the couch to sleep. Piper did the same as Phoebe replied, "You'll just have to wait and see…"

Fin

A/N: I finally finished it! (yes, that was the end) Just as I find out I'm nominated for best unfinished fic at the Halliwell Haven Awards for this piece, I finish it. Oh well. I needed to write something. Don't worry, VoD and Torn are next on my To-Do list. After that, I have a novel to finish, so you might not see me for a while. Anyway, hope you enjoyed 'Tis A Shame!

*Dimples*


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